Page 126 of Depraved

“Nah. It’s okay. I can handle it.”

I reached out, tucking a strand of faded blue hair behind her ear. “When your bandages come off, I think we need to go with a nice bright pink.”

Neon snorted. “I’d rather be blonde again than color my hair pink.”

“You’re a blonde?” Somehow, that surprised me.

“Yes. And just know I’m dying inside from shame.”

I let out a laugh and sat back in the chair, trying to imagine the wild, pixie-faced Neon with subtle and soft blonde hair. But I couldn’t picture it. Not with her hard and tough exterior. The goth look I’d come to know fit her perfectly. But then again, living with these beasts of men probably did that to a woman. You’d need a thick skin, strong personality, and tough attitude to survive in this world.

“You good over there, Swan Lake?”

“Hmm…yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I dunno.” She closed her eye briefly. “With being kidnapped and all, I bet it’s fucking with your head.”

I pulled my legs up, placing my feet on the chair and pulling my knees to my chest. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Horse crap. First, you’re kidnapped, and now you’re stuck in a basement with a bunch of savages. No one can be fine with such shitty living arrangements.”

I laughed. God, I loved her and the way she managed to put me at ease with her sarcasm and snarky remarks. Not even a close encounter with death managed to take that light away from her.

She tried to wriggle a little, and her face scrunched up in pain. “Jesus Christ, what does a woman have to do to be able to move into another goddamn position?”

“Can I help?” I stood, my hands hovering over her, not sure where or how I would be able to assist.

Neon cringed and moaned, shifting a little on the bed. “Nah. Forget it. I think I know what a fucking baby feels like now, all wrapped up and unable to move.”

“Are you in any pain right now?” I sat back down, this immense amount of sympathy sweeping over me, and I had to bite back the tears.

“Besides my one side being numb? No. Doc has me on some pretty potent shit. Remind me to get the name of that stuff.” She gave me a once-over. “Stop staring at me like you’re about to cry, or I’m about to break.”

“Neon—”

“I know. I know. I’m already broken, right?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Truth was, from where I sat, she sure looked broken. She looked like she had been dragged through hell and back. Like every part of her had been shattered, stepped and spat on. I was convinced had it been someone else, they wouldn’t have survived whatever they had put her through. But it wasn’t her physical wounds that worried me.

“Neon, I know I’ve asked this before. But are you okay? Like, really okay?”

She cleared her throat, and I was sure I saw a glimmer of a tear in the corner of her eye, but she blinked it away. “I didn’t die, so there’s that.”

“It was hell thinking you were dead.”

“Ah, Swan Lake. It’s good to know someone will miss me if I really had to tap out someday.”

“I’m serious, Neon. I couldn’t stop blaming myself, blaming him.”

“Stop. It’s not your fault, and it’s not Granite’s either. When they found me, I asked him not to tell you.”

“Why? Why didn’t anyone want me to know? God, Neon. It was torture thinking you were dead.”

She scoffed. “You think it was torture for you?”

Shame made me look away. “I’m sorry. I have no reason to feel like I’m the one who’s been wronged.”

“It’s okay.” She took a few labored breaths. “Just…don’t blame Granite. The guy is having a hard enough time blaming himself.”